Shadowfall
by KakoimonoMiyu
Summary: This is a tweaked re-post of Joseph Hord's Silent Hill fanfic "Shadowfall," with the author's permission. A man enters Silent Hill to find his lost daughter, but ends up getting more than he bargained for. Can he make it out of Silent Hill alive?
1. Jack's Journey to Silent Hill

1.1.1 Shadowfall  
  
I would like to thank Stephen King's The Shining for some inspiration, and I'd also like to point out that though these characters are mine, Silent Hill is not. It is owned by Konami, not me. Please do not sue me. Thank you. Sentences or words in parentheses and italics represent Jack's guilt/conscience trying to force blame upon him.  
  
2 Chapter One: Jack's Journey to Silent Hill  
  
The melodic chime of bells, a cool, sweet breeze, the soft, white light shining through the billowing curtains. The clock struck two in the afternoon in the small, yet comfortable, house on the corner of Ash and Main. The kettle of water that had been boiling for some hot tea on a cold autumn day still whistled, the only sound echoing through the tiny abode. The chilled wind blew through the window, making the curtains shift and rustle.  
  
This would have seemed pleasant, if not for the fact that the window had been shattered, shards of glass covering the table. The house was cold, almost freezing, and a thick fog had rolled in through the window, a light snow, oddly early in the season, had begun to fall, sticking to the grass of the lawn, turning it into a white carpet. The silence was eerie, all consuming. No cars, no people, not even a dog barking. It seemed as if the silence and fog were trying to crush anything that dared stand before them with an incredible pressure, the power of this eerie atmosphere.  
  
A single trail of blood streamed slowly from beneath the closed bathroom door, quiet sobs of fear and resignation filling the cold air, ending in a choked scream. Utter silence enveloped the calm day, and the snow fell a bit faster, covering most everything in town, leaving very few shapes spared. But most prominently, stood the rusty, riveted surface of an old road sign, showing a lake and smiling people, looking decayed and deformed due to the endless years of rust covering the surface. In bold, neon gold letters, the sign proudly proclaimed "Welcome to Silent Hill, the happiest town on earth! You'll never want to leave!"  
  
And to anyone who had entered that town, it seemed to mean that you'd never leave at all.  
  
* * *  
  
A lone car, a small VW Beetle from the late 70's, came down the road, tires cutting a path through the newly fallen snow.  
  
Jackson Craft couldn't help but wonder why it would be snowing this time of year, even in North Dakota. It had been a little over a week ago that he had gotten the package in the mail. It had been from his daughter. He was 39 and his daughter was 18. She had left home without ever saying goodbye.  
  
When he got the package, he was both frightened and belated. It had been a small figurine, carved in her image, but one half was smeared with clotted red fluid. Blood. He checked the postmark and decided right away that he must check for her in this town, this "Silent Hill."  
  
He had packed an overnight bag and climbed into his beat-up old Beetle, making sure to pack his trusty .38 special. A gift from dear old Dad, may that bastard rot. A boozer, a wife and child beater, and a petty criminal. Only good thing he ever did was blow his own damned brains out. A little filtering of the gene pool.  
  
His mother had always been a bit of a milksop, sliding around the house in a constant haze of sorrow and sadness. He loved his mother dearly. He loved his father too, but his father was also a figure to be feared and respected. "Spare the rod and spoil the child, Jackie boy. Take your licks and act like a man," his father had said before his death.  
  
His mother seemed to become vibrant. He had forgotten she was a meager 28 years old when dear old Daddy passed on. She was suddenly young and alive and happy. Life was good. His mother had died two years ago, shortly after his daughter had left. She went in her sleep, happy and calm. He loved her so much. He had lost two important people in his life in a matter of months. He had calmed and settled, hoping to hear from his daughter. God how he had craved a drink. But he never touched the stuff anymore. He had been on the wagon for three years, and it'd take six strong men to drag him off and force him to drink.  
  
He'd been on the wagon ever since the (hit and run killing, you dirty son of a-)  
  
incident that had happened. A man had been jogging late at night, Jack was drunk, swerving; he had hit the guy and the man died. Jack spent some time in jail, but his daughter bailed him out. She had to drop out of school for that, to get all the money she had been saving just to get his worthless hide out of jail. That made it all the worse that she had left, still resentful about it. He had to find her and make sure she was okay, to make it right. He had to make it right by Kat. Her name was Tabitha, but they called her Tabby or Kat as a joke. He had to find Kat, because he knew something was wrong.  
  
The rusted metal sign loomed into his windshield. Something wasn't right… It was leaning into the road!  
  
"Oh hell!" he yelled, jerking the wheel to the left, the car sliding and slamming into a snow bank, half buried in a ditch. He groaned, reclining back against the faux leather seat, a throbbing pain filling his temples. "I almost hit that (jogger, runner, innocent person, murderer) damn sign."  
  
At times like this he wanted a drink so badly, anything to calm his shattered nerves. He opened his eyes slightly and stare out at the sign again... It hadn't been in the road at all; it was off to the side. He must have been seeing things due to the storm. The snow and wind had picked up, already blocking most of the windshield.  
  
He quickly grabbed his bag, gun in his jacket pocket, and stepped out of the car. He bent down by the rear tire and cursed his luck silently. Three flats and a broken oil line. His car was worthless now.  
  
"Well old girl, I guess this is goodbye. You were good to me. Keep your grill clean." His high, slightly nasal laughter filled the cold air for a mere second before he turned and started toward the calm, beautiful town of Silent Hill.  
  
Beautiful my ass, Jack thought, glaring sourly at the small main street stretching out before him. A shopping arcade, a few small restaurants, small two-three floor apartments. One thing was for sure. It was calm. Too calm. Dead calm.  
  
The fog was thick, but not too thick that you couldn't see the storefronts and the fact that none of the lights were on. Nobody walked the darkened streets. No cars were parked along the road. Somewhere above his head a traffic light flashed red, nothing else. This wouldn't have been so weird if it weren't for the fact that this phenomenon was happening all over town at the exact same time. The silence was deafening, a constant roar, a buzz in his ears that screamed, Jack-o, you should be hearing something, seeing people. This place is weird. If I were you I'd haul my lanky hide outta this place.  
  
The constant pressure of the silence on his eardrums, the cold fog attacking his skin and eyes like razor blades of ice each time the wind blew. This was beyond eerie. It was surreal. Like some dream gone wrong.  
  
Suddenly he spotted motion out of the corner of his eye and turned, seeing a young woman dressed in a blue uniform running into the fog. It has been a split second, but he got enough information. Police officer. Tall. Pretty well built. Slender. Short brown hair. He turned on his heels and broke into a light jog, his breath puffing out in long clouds of steam, the moisture crystallizing in mid air, only to disappear and shatter like the (bones of that poor jogger, that poor bastard, the one you ran dow-) glass of a window.  
  
He told his mind to shut up, to let the past rest. But somehow, he felt it wouldn't die until he died, and when that thought crossed his mind, a chill finger of dread traced a path up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was like someone had just walked on his grave. 


	2. Elaine

1.1 Chapter Two: Elaine  
  
Dim pain throbbed through her left thigh. She had fallen down the stairs this morning on the way to work and had pulled a muscle, causing her to limp slightly and grimace each time she sat down.  
  
Cheap pain in the ass landlord won't even salt the damn stairs, she thought darkly, her gun tucked into the small hip holster.  
  
The day had started as any other; get up, go for a jog, and get to work. She'd been a beat cop for about two years now, and she'd seen a lot of crazy stuff. One was that girl who'd been beaten and raped on her first day in town. Poor thing was still in a coma at the city hospital. But today, everything was strange. Nobody seemed to be out. It was snowing, which was weird enough, but the heavy fog, the lack of any sound or movement, was very disturbing. Several times she thought she saw something in the farthest corner of her vision, something lingering in the corner of her eye, something moving in the fog. She was sure it was nothing really, just her imagination, or maybe she had seen someone else jogging and hadn't really taken notice. Either way, she was almost to the police station when she saw the man with the long brown coat and small bag.  
  
He had been standing in front of old Bill's diner, looking up at the buildings. He didn't seem to be a threat of any kind, but that uneasy feeling stuck with her, and she avoided approaching him.  
  
Elaine Dalton, or El to her friends, had seen many strange things on her beat around Silent Hill. Things that go bump in the night, things that couldn't have been real. Like the time the world seemed to flash and she was standing on pitted metal and rusted gratings, listening to the scream and whine of distant machinery, and something like the constant THUMP of some great piston. She had staggered and fallen back through the grating into an abyss. She blacked out, and when she came to she was sitting at a table in the S.H.P.D.'s cafeteria. She had dozed off and had a very strange dream is all. But how did that explain the rust stains on her shoes? It was all too weird for her, but this was beyond all description.  
  
The S.H.P.D.'s station house, a grand old four floor building with a large archway, ornate marble floors and beautiful paintings (All of which was thanks to their art freak of a mayor) was gone. It had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Well, to be as accurate as possible, even the earth was gone. Instead of blank ground or rubble, as if it had been demolished, the ground opened up upon an immense abyss, the faint hum of machinery and a dull, distant, mechanical thumping sound issuing forth from the black depths.  
  
Suddenly a heavy hand clapped down on her shoulder, giving her only a split second to react and make a life or death decision.  
  
* * *  
  
A flash of movement and the gun was up, level with Jack's body, and a round was fired, he spun and fell, not sure what had happened quite yet, his mind a red haze. He felt pain somewhere in his body, but he was so dazed he couldn't tell where. Just before he passed out he heard a gasp and saw a long shadow fall over him. 


	3. Jack's Awakening

1.1 Chapter Three: Jack's Awakening  
  
Jack was sitting at a large bar, surrounded by people, with a cold beer in his hand. Somewhere in the background, Credence Clearwater Revival was coming over the old jukebox, the steady rhythm of that down home music making Jack smile slightly.  
  
I see a bad moon a-rising,  
  
I see trouble on the way.  
  
I see earthquakes and lightnin'  
  
I see bad times today.  
  
Don't go 'round tonight,  
  
It's bound to take your life,  
  
There's a bad moon on the rise.  
  
Jack smiled and thought to himself, rather cheerily considering he was having a nice cold beer, Thank you, Mr. Fogerty, thank you very much.  
  
Suddenly the bar burst open in a bright white ball of fire, and he couldn't help but squint, groaning from the sudden drowsy, dreamy feeling mixed with a massive headache and a dull, throbbing pain in his side. He realized the ball of fire was simply a bright light bulb, humming overhead.  
  
Just freakin' peachy. I have a hangover and I'm not even drunk. Those damn lights could give me cancer, for Christ sake.  
  
He groaned again and sat up, a white-hot streak of pain shooting through his side. Shooting. It struck him. Gun fire. The woman. She'd SHOT him when he came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. In the split second before the shot he had seen that gaping maw in the earth and heard the dull thumping sound, and the one thought rebounding in his skull was simple: "What the hell happened here?" Nothing more, nothing less.  
  
A nearby door opened, and as Jack turned his head to see who was coming, he noticed where he was. It appeared to be a restaurant or a diner. When he looked outside, he immediately recognized the intersection he'd been on before when he'd first seen that woman.  
  
Each table in this place had a disgustingly bright green, blue, red, and white tablecloth. Minuscule menu booklets were sitting in tiny grooves near the center of the table. To the right stood a large counter with many stools. He didn't have to look past it to know that a small short order stove or a grill sat against the back wall. This was the kind of cute little family diner he'd expect in a town like Silent Hill. Only the town didn't seem to match anymore.  
  
Jack looked up at the young woman who'd shot him and tasted bitter anger for a moment.  
  
"You shot me, lady! What were you thinking?" He winced and groaned again, burying his face in his hands.  
  
She sat down at the counter and stared at him sitting in the corner booth, his coat torn and bloodied where the bullet had skimmed his flesh. Just a flesh wound, but still, she'd never fired without checking the target first. She was simply too terrified to think at the moment.  
  
She simply looked at him for a moment, this man, this stranger, trying to find out if he was a threat. He was tall, not as tall as her, but still tall. He had a light tan and hadn't shaved for a couple of days, his whiskers making him look older and haggard. She could estimate that he was mid-late 30s, exercised regularly. The skin still showed signs of wear and tear. She suspected he may be or may have been a drinker at some point. His wallet had an AA membership card in it.  
  
"I'm sorry. I… I was scared and simply reacted. It's just a flesh wound, you'll be fine now. After the pain killers wear off, that is." Her voice was a little girlish, but still held the authority and self-confidence of a trained officer of the law.  
  
He looked up at her and registered her face for the first time. Pale, well formed. Cold blue eyes, short brown hair framing her face. Slightly slender nose, still short enough not to be beakish, and thin stretched lips. She looked as if the blood had been drained from her. She was in a state of shock. Her figure was pleasant, if not a little thin.  
  
He lingered for a moment on her eyes again. That cold, dead color.  
  
"As long as I'm alive, I'll be fine. I understand that you were scared. This town is really creepy. How can you stand to live here?" Jack said, his head tilted back so he could look out the small skylight, to the sky above. The wind kept the snow off the skylight, which gave a rather pleasant view in fair weather.  
  
The woman shook her head, sighing quietly.  
  
"This is a new one on me, Jack. This town's never been like this. Not since I've been here. I did hear an old legend about how every once in a while a mass disappearance occurs. But I thought that was just a fairy tale. But the way the police station was gone, it was just weird-"  
  
Jack suddenly broke in, eyeing the woman for a moment.  
  
"How'd you know my name? Who are you?" he asked, still lost as to what was going on.  
  
The woman held up his wallet, the AA member's card shining like some forgotten treasure that nobody wanted.  
  
Jack averted his eyes for a moment, a wave of shame over his past hitting him almost like a physical blow. The woman folded the wallet and threw it down on the table, her face softening a bit. She could tell he would rather not talk about his alcoholism, so she simply stated her name.  
  
"I'm Elaine. Sergeant Elaine Dalton, S.H.P.D. I was on my way to work when you scared me. The station house is gone. And that abyss is all that's left. But what I do know is that this town was built over six layers of bedrock. Anything short of a bunker buster bomb wouldn't have made a hole like that. It's safe to say something very weird is going on here. Did you see anyone or anything that may provide a clue?"  
  
She was looking at him again with those eyes, and he could feel them bore through his body, as if searching for information he didn't know. He shrugged his shoulders and looked up, the worst of the headache dying off.  
  
"When I came into town, the sign, the big old one, was in the middle of the road. I had to swerve to avoid it. Damn near killed myself too. That damn…" He stopped, and his eyes widened a bit as he realized something dreadful.  
  
"Oh sweet Jesus H. Christ in heaven, the sign... I didn't think about it before, but it changed when I was looking at it. It said 'Silent Hell, you'll never leave alive.' I thought it was some sick kid joke, but now…"  
  
As Jack trailed off, a dark shadow moved over the skylight, ignored by the two people below. 


	4. Shadows Falling

1.1 Chapter Four: Shadows Falling  
  
Jack sat down at the counter, sighing and trying to resist the urge to go hunt for a beer. He pulled a small plate over to him and grabbed a slightly stale doughnut, turning it over in his hand to make sure it was edible. After a momentary search he found a pot of coffee and began his meager meal.  
  
He hadn't been eating right since he'd gotten the figurine of his daughter, and he really needed to get back into a shape, needed to stop eating junk food. To tell the truth, he hadn't eaten right since his wife left him, when Kat was five, but he'd gotten over that, just as he'd gotten over his other problems.  
  
Elaine sat across from him, trying to get someone on her radio, but only getting the annoying crackle of white noise.  
  
"Jack, did you see anybody while you were outside? Anyone at all?" she asked, still focusing on the radio, switching channels constantly.  
  
Jack shook his head and sipped the coffee, which was the worst he had ever tasted. Thick, cold, and far too strong. Like drinking tar.  
  
"No, I was about to ask you where all the people are. Where'd the owner of this diner go? Where're all the people? I didn't even hear any animals. Not even a dog barking."  
  
She looked around for a moment and threw the radio down, disgusted. She'd only gotten it two days before, and the batteries were brand new.  
  
"This is Bill's Diner. He should be here. I looked upstairs in his apartment, but all I found was a broken window and some cold toast. Whatever happened, it happened fast. Bill must have left around lunchtime, a little before I had to be at the station for my beat. The diner was closed, I had to use the key. He told me about keeping an extra under the mat for an emergency." She stood and walked around the counter, looking out the window, into the fog and snow.  
  
Jack looked down at his watch, only to find that it had stopped on twelve noon. "What time is it anyway?" he asked, looking through the skylight again, at the thick cloud cover.  
  
"The best I can guess would be around five. It was almost two when I brought you here, and it's been a few hours."  
  
Jack felt a cold sensation and suddenly realized he had goose bumps. It was going to be night soon. This town wasn't the kind of place he wanted to be at night.  
  
Somewhere in the snow outside, a soft sound began, a slight fluttering, a quiet mewling. A black shadow passed over the snow, slowly turning at the slight hint of warmth, the echo of sound. A chilling cry filled the air, high and flute-like, a loud scream of hunger and ferocity echoing into the evening air. The cry was answered by several more, a choir of inhuman noise.  
  
Jack jumped up from the stool, his heart racing.  
  
"What the hell was that?" he asked, his already frayed nerves being plucked at again.  
  
Elaine turned, eyes wide, trying to find words for what she was thinking. "I-I don't know, Jack, but I've never heard it around here before."  
  
Jack and Elaine shared almost an identical thought at that time. If they had to finally hear some sound, why in God's name did it have to be something like that?  
  
Jack quickly opened his pocket, pulling the gun out and slapping it down on the counter. Elaine turned to him and opened her mouth to ask him a question, but was silenced by another scream.  
  
"Listen, lady, whatever is making that sound, I plan to kill it if I see it. Don't ask questions. You've got a gun, use it."  
  
Elaine simply gave a quick nod, pulling her police issued 9-mm from the holster at her hip, checking the clip to make sure she was loaded. She didn't even know if that sound WAS an animal; it might have been some machine, but she could just feel that it had to be organic, and whatever was making that sound was definitely not friendly or normal.  
  
The dark form sped through the snow, leaving a trail of lopsided footprints. It could sense the shapes of its kin, the flying ones, the four- legged spawn, even others like itself. Somewhere ahead, through the fog, through the quickly darkening fog, it could sense movement, sound, warmth. Food. It stopped, listening, waiting for another sound.  
  
The fluttering of leathery wings, the slight rasping breath of the four legged ones, the shuffle of his own kind. And yes, red sounds, food sounds. Heartbeats. It bellowed, charging forward through the eerie night, blindly hunting two food creatures. Two people.  
  
Jack heard another scream, closer, and thought he saw a shape shifting through the fog and snow, but the wind had kicked up and it was almost impossible to see. The lights had died moments before, thrusting them into darkness, the only light being the white glow coming from the skylight and windows.  
  
Something moved through Jack's field of vision, a single second of movement and heavy fluttering sounds.  
  
Elaine moved back, surprised for a moment, holding the gun with a death grip, her knuckles turning a ghostly white, beads of sweat forming on her brow.  
  
A sickening thud echoed through the building. Something had landed on the sidewalk outside. Something big. A large shape lay on the ground near the window, and Jack slowly walked forward, trying to see what it was. Thick red fluid stained the snow around the form, the shape having been shredded and torn to the point that it could no longer truly be identified. But it was easy enough to tell a dismembered human corpse when he saw it.  
  
The beast charged forward through the driving snow, one of the winged ones overhead. It had dropped the last food creature, and as it had hoped, the others came closer, making sound so it could find them. It knew the pain was coming, and it welcomed it. The warm, hot taste of hate, of pain. Of blood.  
  
Jack backed away from the glass, ready to vomit, when he saw a hulking black shape come running toward the glass, a lopsided, lurching run, one of something deformed. He couldn't tell what it was, but he could see clearly one thing: its eyes. It had none. Just red, ragged holes, dripping blood and pus over an open, screaming maw lined with blades.  
  
Red pain; it could feel the colors. Red like blood.  
  
It smashed through the thin layer of glass separating it from the food creatures and screamed, the shards digging deep into it's already mauled flesh. It flailed a single clawed arm, the bones shattered and broken until they protruded like thorns, trying to catch one of the creatures and drag them forward to feed, to hurt, to kill.  
  
Elaine screamed in surprise, and Jack was stunned into silence. The creature stood maybe three feet tall, the skin twisted and knotted into a red mass, bones poking through the flesh of one arm. The face was flat, with the indentation where a nose should have been, hollow eye sockets filled with nothing, only thin watery blood and yellow fluid, and it screamed, like nails on a chalkboard.  
  
Elaine and Jack began to fire at almost the same time, the loud whip-cracks of explosive noise, the sound of the empty shells falling to the floor with a light clink, flashes of white and gold light illuminating the nightmare image, like some surreal dream, man and monster, locked in a macabre dance of violence.  
  
The long, shattered arm swung in a wide arc, hitting Jack in the shoulder and causing searing pain, the bone shards cutting his flesh, tearing his coat.  
  
It felt the burning, the red pain, the sound hurting its sensitive ears, or what remained of them. Pain was what it lived for, and it was in ecstasy, bellowing and feeling the pain of one creature as it clawed it.  
  
It felt weak and stumbled back, screaming as it tumbled into the cold white snow, a pool of thick crimson blood forming and melting the fine powder around it.  
  
Jack gasped and stared at the deformed thing in the snow, watching as the blood spread around it, staining the snow like some kind of paint, like a child had knocked over a bottle of dye. His arm throbbed and he lifted the torn flap of coat, a shallow cut in his arm seeping a tiny bit of blood. His gun was empty, smoking in his hand.  
  
"What the hell is that, Elaine?!" he asked, digging in his pocket for more bullets, praying he wouldn't have to face another one.  
  
He turned to Elaine, her face seeming even paler, if that was possible. Her eyes were wide, her hand still locked onto the pistol, still pulling the trigger. She was gasping for air, unblinking, the hammer falling uselessly, the firing pin simply hitting air.  
  
"Elaine, snap out of it! What was that thing?"  
  
She turned and swallowed, shaking her head and finally ejecting the empty clip, loading a new one in a single, practiced motion.  
  
"I have no clue. Nothing like that has ever been in this town, not to my knowledge. It must be some kind of…"  
  
A high pitched screech filled the air and they both turned, aiming into the snow.  
  
A giant creature with wings, possibly four feet from wing tip to wing tip, had perched on the corpse of the monster, burying a long tooth filled beak in the bloody stomach cavity, tearing loose the organs and flesh, feeding.  
  
Jack simply swallowed and backed toward the counter, toward a door behind it. His hand hit the counter and he felt the thin handle of a butcher knife. He didn't have much ammunition, so he'd take it with him. He left his bag of clothes, grabbing the knife and motioning for Elaine to follow. She quickly stepped around a table and opened the door, Jack following in horrified silence.  
  
He had indeed entered hell, and he was starting to believe the sign. There might be no escape. 


	5. Cui Ci Sono Dei Mostri

1.1 Chapter Five: Cui Ci Sono Dei Mostri  
  
Jack slumped against the door, resisting the urge to vomit once again, the gun falling to the floor beside him. He stared across the room at Elaine. She was sitting with her gun in her hand, calmly checking it, making sure it was loaded, putting the safety on and checking the barrel.  
  
She had fallen into her routine; she was so shocked and horrified she had simply let her mind go and had fallen into a routine of gun safety, trying to calm herself. He could see a tear in her eye and he realized at that moment, in that instant, that this whole thing was real.  
  
When he had seen the corpse he had thought of this whole thing being a bad dream. He had spun the car, hit his head, and he was dreaming. But now, the reality, the terror of it all was sinking in.  
  
Jack-o, we're all screwed this time. You had to go on some damn crusade to look for your daughter, didn't you? She's a big girl, you dumb bastard, she can take care of herself!  
  
His mind was still screaming at him, trying to convince him this was all his fault. He knew it wasn't; he was just trying to get his mind off what he'd seen. He looked back at Elaine and saw the tears streaming down her face, which seemed a stark difference to the tight, focused concentration showing on her young face.  
  
Elaine felt the tears burn her cheeks, but ignored them. She focused on her gun, her trusty gun. Today was only the third time she'd ever shot at something. Well, she had shot at targets, but never anything alive until now. She had to shoot the tires out of a car that had been stolen so it wouldn't get away and her prior accident with Jack, but today she'd actually killed something.  
  
She flicked the safety on again and looked into the barrel, making sure it was clean. She ejected the clip for what seemed like the fifth time, making sure it was loaded. She constantly turned the gun, checking every possible mechanism. She had learned that in times of stress she could relax if she simply focused on a single action, such as inspecting her gun. But today it simply didn't work.  
  
Jack stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, silent. She finally broke down and dropped the gun, watching it fall to the floor with a hollow thump. The tears rolled down her white cheeks in a steady stream. She had fallen silent, but she was crying; if not audibly, at least in appearance.  
  
Jack walked away from Elaine to let her relax, to let her get back into a proper state of mind. He quickly searched the room they were in.  
  
It seemed to be a business office of some sort, possibly where the owner of the diner worked on his books, bills, and other such things.  
  
On the desk, he found a few stacks of bills and mail, some family pictures of a portly man wearing a tie, holding a little boy and standing next to a tall, red-haired woman, and a personal computer. He opened the drawers, looking for anything and everything that could help. A lighter, a box of bullets for a .38, and a couple of cans of soda, lukewarm. It was something, at least, and his mouth had suddenly gone dry. He didn't want to mention the fact that the dismembered corpse outside was wearing the same exact suit as the man in the picture.  
  
Elaine looked up and saw Jack holding a can of soda out to her, his face grim and pale. She took it and mumbled her thanks, leaning back against the wall and blinking the last few tears away.  
  
"So, nobody else seems to be around. They may all be dead or may have left town. Why were you spared, Elaine? Have you got any idea?" Jack was looking at her, his brow knitted.  
  
She could tell he wasn't telling her something.  
  
"What'd you find in the desk, Jack? Anything we can use?" she asked, waiting for him to tell her what he was hiding.  
  
He held up a lighter and a box of shells. "Just these. It isn't much, but it'll do." He paused for a moment and sighed, putting them down. "I think that corpse outside is the guy in that photograph. You said you knew him, and I didn't want to upset you."  
  
Elaine lowered her head for a moment and stood, tucking the gun back into the holster.  
  
"We need to get to my apartment. I have some ammo for my gun, and a shotgun in the closet. They'll help if we find anymore of those things." She started toward the back exit, but stopped dead in her tracks.  
  
Hanging on the wall, by a strip of bloody flesh, was a map, double-sided. One side was white with black lines, the heading "Welcome to Silent Hill" on one side. The other was black with white outlines and said, "Welcome to Hell. Cui Ci Sono Dei Mostri."  
  
Elaine stumbled back, looking at the small heart shaped tattoo on the flesh strip. It had been on Bill's right arm the day before.  
  
Jack took the map and looked it over, his face turning into a grim mask.  
  
"Cui ci sono dei mostri. Here there be monsters," he said, and the room seemed to fill with ice cold air, a sense of dread filling Elaine and Jack both. 


	6. Night Sounds

1.1.1.1 Chapter Six: Night Sounds  
  
Jack took the map from the wall, trying to avoid looking at the strip of flesh and meat, tugging the map quickly and releasing it with a wet snap, the remaining skin and tendons being torn free.  
  
Jack and Elaine stepped out the rear door of the building, the thin, cold air seeming a welcome change after the tight, almost suffocating heat in the back room of the diner.  
  
Jack instantly saw that they weren't safe. An alley that ended abruptly at the wall of some nearby building, with a single exit leading out on to Bachman and Crighton street, an intersection that split off to the streets of Ash, Koontz and Midwich, as well as a nameless road leading into a small apartment complex.  
  
If, in fact, more of the creatures were waiting somewhere in the dark, snow covered streets and alleyways, this alley would be the modern version of a box canyon. One way in, no way out. Jack held the large butcher knife at his side, the weight resting in his hand, comforting his shattered nerves a bit. He was also amazed at how dark it had gotten. The blinding white glare of snow was obvious at the end of the alley, but the sky was pitch, and the alley was so dark it was impossible to see very well.  
  
He removed the Zippo from his coat and flicked it on, the small flame dancing in the darkness. The alley was empty, save for a few dumpsters, a pile of old cans, and a door leading to a movie theater, the poster on the door proudly claiming "Only the newest and best films! Come see our latest release, 'Pet Semetary!' Bring your copy of the book and get three dollars off your ticket price!"  
  
Jack shook his head and laughed. That damn nagging voice began again, burning into his mind with an incredible level of annoyance.  
  
Hey, Jack-o, these stupid hicks sure are behind the times, aren't they? it said, laughing like a lunatic. Jack knew it was unhealthy to hear voices, but this one wouldn't go away. To the voice he was never a Jack or Jackson, always a Jack-o.  
  
He turned to Elaine and motioned toward the open end of the alley, the light casting strange shadows across his face.  
  
As he neared a dumpster, he heard a light sound: eerie, haunting. Suddenly, the light died, thrusting them into pitch darkness once again.  
  
Elaine ran into Jack, suddenly blind.  
  
"Now what?" she inquired, rubbing her unprotected hands together to keep them warm. She heard the clicking of a lighter, and the incoherent cursing of one very displeased man. Suddenly the lighter burst back to life, revealing a sickening sight.  
  
A wheelchair had apparently been thrown from one end of the alley to another. Next to the dumpster lay the mangled ruins of a Med-Tech small size wheel chair. Blood soaked the wall and ground, still thin, possibly even warm. It seemed to be thickest down the alley, in the darkness near the far wall. Jack hadn't gotten a good look at that wall, he hadn't got a look at all, really.  
  
He turned and held the lighter out at arms length, walking slowly toward the wall.  
  
"Elaine, cover me. I want to see what's up," he whispered, a slight tone of nervous fear seeping through his usually tough exterior.  
  
The blood seemed to pool the closer he got to the wall, and for some reason the darkness didn't seem willing to be driven from that dark corner of town.  
  
Jack got within three feet and smelled something strange. Peppermint. Not as strong as candy, more likely some kind of breath freshener. He held the light high and could almost feel the blood drain from his face.  
  
Nailed to the wall was a woman, a girl really, maybe only fifteen, nude from the waist up, with her throat cut. It wasn't a clean slit, as if made by a knife, but a ragged wound. Claws. Whatever did this was no stupid monster. It had broken one of her legs into shards and used those to nail her hands to the wall before killing her, like some twisted crucifix. He could tell by the thin leg, the one that hadn't been torn to shreds, that this girl had been handicapped, unable to walk. At this time of day she should have been in school.  
  
Jack had the sudden feeling that he would see many things he'd never forget, and many that he would wish he could.  
  
Elaine saw the corpse and a new set of tears welled up in her eyes. She recognized the girl. It was Terri Miller. She'd lost the ability to walk in a car wreck a few years ago. She was supposed to be at the local high school, but somehow she'd been dragged out into the street and murdered. It truly was hell on earth here, including Satan's twisted take on Christ on the cross. She only noticed that one of the wheels on the wheelchair was still spinning for a moment, not recognizing this fact for what it may mean.  
  
Jack turned away and came back to Elaine, poor Terri disappearing into the shadows again.  
  
Jack saw the gleam of fresh tears on Elaine's cheeks and felt a quick pang of pity, knowing how hard it must be for her to see the people she'd grown to know and be friends with murdered in such grisly ways.  
  
As he came back around to the dumpster, he heard a soft sobbing and assumed it was Elaine, until he noticed she was no longer crying. She was instead alert, her gun drawn. The sobbing was coming from near the wheelchair, soft, sad sounds, like a child.  
  
Jack slowly inched his way forward, ready to fight back if anything attacked. He glanced at the wall above the wheelchair, half expecting to see another monster, but simply seeing the blank brick wall. The sobbing was coming from below his vision, and he glanced down.  
  
Elaine jumped when Jack stumbled away from the chair, yelling in surprise. She looked down and saw exactly what he saw. A tiny black shape, like that of a newborn baby, was walking back and forth, passing through the wheelchair like some strange ghost, sobbing. It lurched away from the light, the sobs increasing in volume, and cringed against the dumpster, covering its tiny head and disappearing before their eyes.  
  
Jack looked at Elaine, a expression of disbelief on his face.  
  
"I didn't just see that, did I, Elaine? Tell me you didn't either, because we both must be going insane if we did."  
  
Elaine simply nodded and turned back to where the child-thing had been.  
  
"I saw it too, Jack. We aren't going insane. If we were, we couldn't be seeing the exact same thing."  
  
Jack simply weighed the knife in his hand and began once again down the alley, into the chill air of the night. 


	7. Streets of the Damned

1.1.1.1 Chapter Seven: Streets of the Damned  
  
The streets were dead again, the snow still falling, the street lights blank and dark. No light anywhere. The darkness would be worse, if not for the eerie white glow coming up from the blanket of fresh snow.  
  
Jack turned to the left, looking down the street, seeing nothing but the vast expanse of snow, disappearing into the darkness. A city that had once been full of life had become some alien wasteland. For some odd reason, no cars even sat on the streets. In a city this small, there were no parking lots in front of stores. This was more of a nice little town. Or it had been. Now it was some twisted nightmare where the innocent die and the evil, unholy things of nightmares roam free.  
  
Elaine stepped out next to Jack and shivered, looking in every direction for signs of trouble. Jack suddenly noticed she was wearing a short sleeved shirt. She probably hadn't been expecting weather this cold. He removed his coat, taking everything of importance out of his pockets, and nudged her shoulder to get her attention.  
  
"Here, take this. You'll get frostbite out here if you don't cover up."  
  
Jack actually thought this possible, because it was cold beyond words out here. Even with all the snow it was bizarre. It felt like twenty, maybe less. He had been wearing a sweater under his coat, by God's good graces.  
  
"Which way to your apartment?" Jack asked, squinting against the shadows and snow, trying to make out a street name on a sign.  
  
"We head past the police station… Well, where the station house was. The main road to the apartment complex is too open. Definite safety risk," Elaine replied.  
  
Jack shook his head and made an offhanded gesture in the general direction of the main road.  
  
"It's also the quickest. We've got our choice. Waste time and be safer, or get there as fast as possible. I'm taking fast."  
  
Elaine stared at Jack as if he were insane and sighed. "Fine, we'll split up. Whoever gets there first should look for anything we can use. I keep an extra key over the door. Just check and you'll find it."  
  
Jack laughed, the sound incredibly loud in the strangely silent street. "Isn't that a little unsafe? Anybody could find that key."  
  
Elaine simply shrugged. "Who's going to break into an apartment with a sign that says 'Warning: Police officer at home' out front?" She turned and ran down the street, Jack disappearing in the opposite direction.  
  
Jack was running down the street, the ice-cold air burning his lungs. He held the knife at his side, the handle loose in his hand, the blade glinting in the white glow. He had the lighter held out in front of him, trying to keep it out at a reasonable distance so he could read the road signs. He kept hearing sounds in the distance; the screech of some device, the dull thump, thump, thump of something, like a giant heart beating. He thought that if he didn't know this whole nightmare was real he'd lose his mind, think he was insane. Probably freeze to death out here if it weren't for his sweater. The cold seemed to pass through the sweater though, the kind of cold that seems to crawl on your skin.  
  
Suddenly he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye and turned for a split second, only to turn back and close his eyes for a second, banishing the image. One of those birds, crouched over the body of an old woman, pecking at her.  
  
He saw a car sitting on the side of the road, the lights cutting a path through the darkness. It was sitting there, doors wide open, with the lights on. It still had keys. Jack silently thanked God and ran for it.  
  
Jack was beside it and in the door before he knew it, placing a hand on the wheel and sitting down. He slammed the door and made a quick inspection. Keys in the ignition, in neutral, no signs flashing. It was perfect, even loaded with gas. He turned the key, and the lights died. He almost broke down. He turned the key again, willing it to work, but it didn't. It was as if this town didn't want him to escape. He kept turning the key until he heard a faint sound and realized he'd broken it. He leaned back against the seat and sighed, feeling beyond his years and very depressed. He'd found a way out, and it was gone. He heard a light tapping and looked back to the window on the door he'd just shut. It was one of those damn bird-things.  
  
"At least the little bastards can't get in," Jack mumbled, when suddenly, tiny spider webs appeared on the glass. "This just keeps getting better and better…"  
  
Elaine was running between the sparse tree cover of the city park, trying to remain silent. She had passed the giant hole where the station house had been and stopped for a moment to think, trying to come up with some way to explain what had happened to the town. She had kicked a rock into the hole, expecting to hear it hit bottom, but instead, she heard only silence. Before she could think about it, a flock of those strange skinned buzzard creatures burst forth from the abyss, screaming and spreading out in every direction. She had panicked and ran toward the park, for the tree cover.  
  
Now, as she felt her way through the cold darkness, she cursed her stupidity. She figured she could walk across the lake, as cold as it was out here, and use that as a shortcut to her apartment. Of course she'd have to watch out for thin ice, but she supposed she could manage. As she came out of the trees, she spotted the small boathouse near the lake and trudged forward through the snow. It had gotten to about knee height down here, but that was because the area around the lake was a natural bowl, everything slid down from the hills around it. She arrived at the small structure and stared in shocked silence.  
  
The lake was still liquid. For some reason, it had remained liquid in the deep freeze.  
  
"This isn't possible… What am I saying, nothing I've seen today is possible!"  
  
She could take a boat across; they always had one in the boathouse, ready to go. She knew where the key was too. She couldn't walk around, it was too dangerous. She once again wished she'd just kept her cool and stayed with the road.  
  
She placed the gun back in its holster and went to the door, only to find it locked. She sighed, already tired and feeling drained due to the cold. She stood back for a moment and took a deep breath, the cold, crisp air making her lungs ache, before kicking the thin wooden door with all her might, the loud crunch of splintering wood echoing through the night. The door fell off the already rusted hinges with a slight squeal of twisting metal, making Elaine wince.  
  
"Well, if that doesn't attract the attention of every damn creature in this town, nothing will."  
  
She entered the boathouse, searching for the light switch. She knew the boathouse had an independent generator, so it would probably still have power. She found the light switch and tested it, the lights bursting to life overhead. She blinked a few times in the intense new illumination and put the door back into its place behind her, pushing a crate in front of it to keep it shut.  
  
The boat sat in the water, the keys already in the ignition. That was strange, but it made it easier for her. She wouldn't have to shoot the lock off of the key storage box.  
  
She saw a fire ax and a gas can sitting near the door and took them both. If the boat ran out of gas, she could use the extra fuel, and the ax… Well, that was just a precaution. She climbed into the boat, throwing the ax into the small seat behind her, as well as the gas can. The boat was just for short, pleasant rides, but it would have to do, just as long as it got her across the lake.  
  
The boat came to life with a slight roar, and began forward, not really designed for speed, but moving fast enough for her needs. The lights in the boathouse behind her died shortly after her exit, and a slow, paced ripple appeared on the surface of the water.  
  
Elaine was closing in on the far shore when something struck the bottom of the boat.  
  
"Jesus! I almost jumped out of my skin." She stopped the boat, leaning back in the seat, trying to calm her nerves. "Probably just a log, or a clump of weeds. Nothing major… Man, I need a break."  
  
You're talking to yourself again. You know you shouldn't.  
  
She sighed and looked into the water for a moment before reaching for the key, when suddenly the water exploded around her. At first she thought something had come up out of the water, attempting to attack her, but when she looked around, searching wildly for any sign of danger, she found only the eerie darkness and fog. The water on the port side began to ripple and she turned, pulling the 9-mm out of its holster, firing into the lake. She knew perfectly well that bullets couldn't do much damage if fired into water, but she couldn't wait for whatever it was to come up and attack.  
  
Another surge of water, the spray catching her in the face, creating tiny pockets of numb pain. It was so incredibly cold, it was like her skin was freezing. She watched as a column of water rose into the air, only to change, to turn into a writhing mass. It wasn't something in the water trying to attack her; it was the water itself. 


	8. Personal Battles

1.1.1.1 Chapter Eight: Personal Battles  
  
Jack was still in the car, trying to think of some way to escape. The bird creature was still pecking at the glass, the high screams filling the air. Another had landed and was pecking at the windshield, but the glass was too thick for it to damage. Jack considered using his .38 on the first bird, but he knew the glass would shatter and leave him open to attack. He had his feet up on the window, ready to kick it out and start shooting if need be.  
  
"Right, choices. Shoot the bird through the window and risk attack, or wait for them to come to me."  
  
We already know the answer, Jack-o.  
  
Jack would have gotten angry at the voice, but he knew it was right. He pulled his feet back and fired, three bullets punching through the glass before it shattered. He saw the bird fly back, a red mist escaping its open beak, the long snake-like neck weaving through the air. He had hit it in the body and neck, and he couldn't help but smile as he saw it pinwheel across the ground, coming to a stop in a broken heap, seeming boneless now that it was dead.  
  
"Not so tough now, are you, you little bastard?" Jack almost laughed, feeling triumphant, but suddenly he remembered the other creature and turned. It was still working on the windshield, screaming at the glass with each peck.  
  
New meaning for bird-brained, right, Jack-o?  
  
Jack pressed the barrel of the gun against the glass, laughing as the bird turned its deformed head to get a good look at it. He pulled the trigger once, the loud explosion and flash of light displaying the cold black eye, moments before it exploded. The windshield was sprayed with thin red liquid, hardly even blood, it was so thin, and the bird slumped down, rolling off the hood and falling to the road.  
  
Jack took this time to pop the trunk and give the car a quick search. A flashlight (Great step in the right direction; no more lighter.), a coat (Thank God!), and a house key.  
  
He found a few other things, but nothing of importance, so he went around to the trunk and started looking around. Jumper cables, a spare tire, a tarp, some rope, and an old box of tin cans. Nothing of any use, once again. Jack sighed, turned the collar up on the coat, and started down the road again, giving the dead bird creature near the door a swift, solid kick in the side for good measure.  
  
Elaine ducked down in the boat, avoiding the mass of water as it surged against the vessel, chilling her to the bone with each wave. She could never have thought the water would be some kind of creature, not even in her wildest dream. She had no clue how to stop it, and her body was starting to feel stiff and weak. If it didn't drown her, it would sap her of strength with each wave of cold water until she froze to death, of that she was sure.  
  
She had a moment of livid thought in the jumbled blur of ideas: the water was impossibly cold, which might mean the water-thing needed the cold to survive.  
  
She started searching the coat pockets, hoping Jack was a smoker, and sure enough, she found an almost empty pack of matches. She stood and saw a wall of water rise up behind the boat, the water spraying up into the craft. She ducked and took the gas can by the handle, simply wanting the strength to twist off the cap and throw it. She tugged at the plastic cap, surprised to find that it was already loose, and threw it at the water-thing with all her might. The can struck the wall of moving water, and she saw the slight discoloration as the gasoline began to spread throughout. Even in the cold darkness she could see the strange shine caused by the gasoline. She opened the pack of matches and pulled one free, dragging it over the sandpaper backing, cursing as it did nothing. The matches were probably wet, and if that was the case she was doomed. She struck another match and it flared to life, casting a low orange light across the water. She quickly lit the other matches and threw the pack at the approaching wall of water, gunning the boat engine and heading toward the far shore. A huge explosion tore through the air, making the boat tilt to the side slightly, and cold water splashed across her back.  
  
Elaine turned and saw the burning slick behind her, smiling. Suddenly, the boat slammed to a halt and she was thrown forward, prepared to slam into the ice-cold lake.  
  
To her discomfort, and relief, she hit something solid, if not a bit chilly. Upon the destruction of the water creature, it must have unleashed an incredible amount of cold energy, because the lake was frozen, thick ice holding the boat in place. She knew this whole set of events had taken only five minutes or so, but she felt as if it had been hours, the cold having drained her of power and vitality.  
  
She stood and almost screamed in pain. Her bad thigh was bugging her again, and the recent ice landing hadn't helped a bit. She limped over to the boat and took the fire ax from the back seat, ready to do a little damage. She'd had a bad day so far, and she was going to make sure anything that came after her had one too. 


	9. Arrival at Elaine's

1.1.1.1 Chapter Nine: Arrival at Elaine's  
  
Jack had been walking for what seemed like an hour when he finally arrived at the main gate to the apartment complex.  
  
Jeez, Jack-o, this place is a dump. You'd think a pretty young thing like Elaine could find a better place to live. You do think she's pretty, don't ya, Jack-o?  
  
"Shut up, you little jerk. You aren't real, you're just my imagination."  
  
Y'know, Jack-o, if someone were to hear you talking to yourself, they might say you're… crazy… Hehehehe.  
  
"I SAID SHUT UP!" Jack punched the iron gate with all his might, making his knuckles bleed and ache. The scream of rage echoed into the courtyard, the strange harmonics bouncing it back like a ghostly recording, the sound of his fist hitting the rusty metal mixed in.  
  
Jack opened the gate and stepped inside, his constant internal companion silent for one of the first times that day.  
  
Inside the courtyard, the entire landscape seemed more like a dream, and less like a nightmare. The snow had covered every tiny bush, withered tree and small wooden bench, and had changed them from bits of garbage into beautiful statues. Well, not quite statues, more like random shapes, but still beautiful. Jack felt a bit more at ease, even though he still knew danger could be waiting anywhere.  
  
He began forward, getting a better look at the complex itself. Simple brick, pale, chipped and stained in many locations, a rusted metal fire escape with ice trailing down the rails. Jack stopped for a moment to ponder the ice, trying to think of what seemed strange about it.  
  
He shrugged and continued forward, stopping in front of the first door. A horribly slow moment passed as he suddenly realized he had no clue which of the many apartments belonged to Elaine.  
  
I could have told you that in the first place, Jack-o. Maybe next time you'll listen to-  
  
"I don't want to hear it. Buzz off," Jack hissed through tightly clenched teeth, trying to think of something, anything, that could help.  
  
" Who's going to break into an apartment with a sign that says..."  
  
"'Warning: police officer at home' out front," Jack said to himself, the moment on the street with Elaine flashing back into his head, forcing him to repeat her precise words in a calm, almost robotic voice.  
  
He turned to the left and started working his way around the complex, checking every door. After roughly ten minutes he had found nothing similar to the sign. All that left was the second floor. Jack started up the fire escape, being sure to take a firm hold of the railing.  
  
You'd think they could afford some normal stairs here.  
  
As much ice as he'd seen earlier, he'd need something to hold on to. Roughly a quarter of the way up, he pulled his hand away from the rail in disgust. The ice was sticky. It felt wrong, not like normal ice should. In the dim light, he couldn't tell what was wrong with it. He pulled the flashlight from his pocket and turned it on, casting the light across the railing.  
  
A thick ribbon of red trailed down the rusted metal, and as Jack looked down, he saw a sharp stalactite of blood hanging down, a pool of it staining the snow crimson.  
  
Jack couldn't resist, some force making him turn the light skyward. Hanging from the rain gutter above was a human torso, minus anything below the waist. The face of a young man was turned toward the ground, trail of blood seeping from his opened throat. That same trail had connected with the rail and slid down, freezing to the metal. This man was likely no older than twenty. The fact that his lower body was missing seemed to indicate he had been trying to escape something, possibly climbing up the fire escape at the time. But that wasn't what was so disturbing about the corpse. What was most disturbing was the fact that, while it appeared to be hanging, it was, in fact, pinned to the gutter with the hand brake of a Med-Tech small sized wheelchair.  
  
Jack continued on, stopping on the landing just long enough to look out across the town.  
  
Nothing like a slum with a view, right Jack-o?  
  
The fog was thick, so thick he couldn't see most parts of the street, but he did notice a few landmarks. Pulling the map free, he placed the flashlight between his teeth and checked off each major area in his mind. Silent Hill city hospital, the local school, the police station-  
  
The abyss, Jack-o. Remember, it isn't the station anymore.  
  
-the apartment complex, the small theme park at lakeside, and the shopping district.  
  
He'd been to the "Abyss," the shopping district, and the apartment complex. Suddenly he noticed one landmark he hadn't seen on the map.  
  
Near the hospital, he could make out the silhouette of a huge black cross. It wasn't just the fact that it was dark that made the cross black, he just got this sense of darkness. At street level it was incredibly dark, but higher up, the white glare of the snow allowed him to get a better look at the roof top level. Off in the distance he could make out what must have been hundreds, maybe thousands of those skinned vultures, flocking around the Abyss and disappearing into the darkness. It was strange how the Abyss was the only section of town that seemed almost devoid of fog.  
  
Jack-o, you know as well as I do that nothing in this town is strange anymore, not after meeting our little friend back at the diner.  
  
He turned and put the map away, walking down row after row of doors, finding one slightly cracked. He nudged it open, holding the knife at his side, ready to slash anything he saw.  
  
Smeared across the far wall, in bright red gore, was a final message:  
  
1.1.1.1.1 BeWare DOlls  
  
Below the message lay a mauled lower torso, several parts missing, mainly the entire pelvic area. It wasn't a clean removal either. It had been sawed and hacked away with knives, and by the profuse amount of blood, the wounds were inflicted before death.  
  
Suddenly, Jack heard a shrill giggle, coming from a darkened corner of the room, and the clink of metal on tile from the kitchen off to the left. He backed away and slammed the door shut.  
  
Jack continued along the line of doors, finally finding one with a rather amusing sign. A pitbull wearing a police hat and a badge snarling at a man wearing a mask and a striped shirt, the classic comical burglar, and in bold letters, it stated:  
  
WARNING: Police officer at home!  
  
Jack ran a hand over the doorjamb, finding a small key. He pulled it down, turning it over in his hand once. It was a copy, similar to the kind you'd get made at one of those little stations in a mall. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.  
  
Elaine limped her way up the rear entry road, having cut through the remaining sections of the park. The battle with the water creature had left her soaked, and the cold night air wasn't helping.  
  
She found herself in a tight alley with brick walls on either side. Up ahead, she knew that a pair of chain link fences replaced the walls.  
  
The ax skittered across the ground behind her, leaving scrapes and gouges in the concrete. Her strength was still poor, and she couldn't really lift the ax, but she still took it with her.  
  
She was almost upon the fenced-in area when she noticed something had changed. She'd been through this area many times before, and she noticed right away that something was very wrong. The fence on the left was dented in, while the one on the right had been ripped open.  
  
What in the name of God could tear that fence apart like that?  
  
Elaine's thought made her shiver even more, because she knew that whatever it was, she didn't want to meet it. She had been focused on the fence to the right when the incredibly loud explosion of sound began.  
  
Elaine spun around, new found strength allowing her to heft the ax in a defensive posture. Behind the dented fence, she saw what appeared to be a group of dogs, the medium sized shapes sitting in the shadows and watching her. One of them had howled and scared her out of her mind.  
  
"Jeez, guys, you three scared the hell out of me! What're you doing out here, huh?" She knew they couldn't answer, but she was speaking to them mostly for her own sanity. She smiled a bit and bent over to try and get a look into the fenced-in area.  
  
By the huge dent she could make a safe assumption that something had attempted to get at the dogs. If it was the same thing that had destroyed the fence across from them, she was surprised it hadn't gotten to them.  
  
Before she could react, one of the dogs snarled and lunged forward, locking its jaws onto the fence and tugging back, pulling the mesh inward. She backed away, her heart pounding, as the other two lunged forward and joined the effort. If they had been dogs at some point, they weren't now.  
  
The two flanking the first looked as if they had been German Shepherds, rather large even for that kind of dog though. The first had obviously been a Rottweiler.  
  
They were all snarling and attacking the fence, long claws tapping out a rapid beat, the loud clicking and thunderous barks filling the alley. The claws had grown from the size of a normal dog to something more fitting on a lion. Each dog had grown large, larger than the usual size for each breed, and their eyes were a dead black color.  
  
They were skinned. Elaine couldn't see very well, but she could tell. The slight glisten of moisture, the smell of blood. When they had grown they had split their own skin open and shed it.  
  
She heard metal tearing and had a sudden burst of realization: that nothing had torn the other fence open from the outside; it had been tugged open from within.  
  
She turned and saw a single shoe, a child's sneaker, coated in blood protruding from the hole in the fence.  
  
Without thinking, she simply ran. She turned toward the apartment complex and ran as fast as she could, an adrenaline fueled instinct to survive taking over.  
  
Jack had found the shotgun in the closet. Remington, twelve gauge. Well kept, with a box of shotgun shells on the shelf next to it, as well as enough ammo for a 9-mm to wage a personal war. He also found a couple of boxes of .38 slugs, which would come in handy. Jack assumed that at some point she must have owned a .38, why else would she have bullets for one? He could have used another gun, but he couldn't find the .38 itself.  
  
He sat down on the couch and started loading the shotgun. He had found a battery-powered lamp in the closet and a few candles. He had enough light to see, so at least that wasn't a problem. Somewhere outside the window, he heard barking.  
  
Strange, I can't remember ever hearing dogs before.  
  
Jack only had a moment to ponder this, because he soon heard a familiar scream coming from outside.  
  
Elaine was almost to the back of the apartment building when she heard the sound of claws connecting with the concrete behind her, loud howls filling the air. She slammed into the metal door that led through the storage room into the courtyard and wanted to cry. It was locked.  
  
She turned and pulled the ax up in front of her. The three dogs sat halfway across the small area, like a miniature parking lot. They simply sat, watching her, not even breathing.  
  
One of the German Shepherds stood and started forward, growling. It broke into a run without any kind of warning, heading straight for Elaine. She swung the ax down without a second thought, feeling it connect with a sickening crunch. She had closed her eyes without realizing it, and when she opened them she saw the shattered, whimpering shape writhing on the concrete, leaving a red trail as it started dragging itself back toward the other two.  
  
The Rottweiler started toward Elaine slowly, but then it turned and pounced on the wounded dog. The German Shepherd joined in, tearing away at their downed kin. These creatures were ruthless killing machines now, no longer faithful companions to human kind. Elaine backed away from the disgusting spectacle, dragging the ax away and turning to the door.  
  
Please, God, let me have a few seconds to work on the lock, that's all I ask.  
  
Elaine hefted the ax once more and brought it down on the lock, a shower of sparks spraying into the air. The lock held strong, the metal gleaming slightly.  
  
Cheap bastard couldn't salt the stairs but he could buy a new lock for his precious junk room.  
  
She swung the ax again, the hollow clang of metal on metal filling the confined space. The low growling began again and she turned. The mauled remains of the dog had been turned into a mass of bones and loose flesh, and the others were coming toward her again, seeming to grin. She knew she couldn't fight them, she wouldn't stand a chance. She simply closed her eyes and pressed her back against the cold metal door, hoping it would be quick.  
  
She heard what sounded like three explosions, sharp reports in the cold night air. She opened her eyes and saw the German shepherd running back down the alley, one of its rear legs missing. On the ground in front of her, the Rottweiler had been obliterated. The entire body from the chest up was gone, the head laying a foot or more away. She found herself speechless, dumbstruck even. She had been saved, but she could not see her savior anywhere.  
  
"Hey, Elaine, you're really popular with animals aren't you?" a slightly smug voice cried from above.  
  
She looked up and saw Jack hanging out the window, her shotgun smoking in his hands.  
  
"Jack, I could kiss you right now, but I can't feel my lips. I'm coming up. Throw me the shotgun, I need to remove this lock and I don't think my service piece will do the trick."  
  
Without another word, Jack threw the weapon down to her and closed the window. A single loud shot rang out, and Elaine quickly made her way to her apartment. 


	10. Otherside Dawning

1.1.1.1 Chapter Ten: Otherside Dawning  
  
Jack was leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to work out a path through the town, when Elaine came in, pale and drawn.  
  
"You look like a drowned rat. What happened to you?" Jack inquired, folding the map and stuffing it back into his coat pocket.  
  
Elaine looked almost skeletal, tired and weary. "I had to take a shortcut across the lake in the park."  
  
Jack stared at her for a few moments and was about to ask her if she had enjoyed her swim, but by looking at her, he could tell it wasn't the time to joke around. She simply slammed the door shut and bolted it before walking across the apartment and closing a door behind her.  
  
Jack sat down and continued to try and think of where his daughter could be, making sure to consider the school, hospital and the church. His daughter had always been religious and had cared about people. She could have possibly been teaching, working at the hospital or at the church. He sighed and shook his head, knowing the one fatal flaw in his plan. The three buildings were across town from each other. It would be too dangerous to check them all in one day. The cold could kill, and the danger of the creatures was all too obvious.  
  
The door across the room opened and Elaine came out dressed in dry clothes, as well as a good bit thicker. A bulletproof vest bulged underneath her coat, and she was wearing denser clothing and boots.  
  
Jack suddenly felt very unprepared compared to her.  
  
"So, what's our plan of action?" she asked, pulling another 9-mm Baretta pistol out of a desk drawer, slamming a clip home, and cocking it.  
  
"Well, our best course of action is to go to the church since it's close. I figure we find my daughter, make a break for the edge of town, and get the hell out of here. I think this is an isolated incident."  
  
Elaine nodded and tucked the gun into a shoulder holster, picking a flashlight up off the table and testing it quickly.  
  
"Well, if we're leaving we should wait until morning. It's safe here, and I think the creatures are mainly nocturnal." She sat down in a chair facing the door, her face fixing in a mask of concentration. "We'll take watches. We both need to rest. I'll take first, Jack," she said, leaning forward and resting on her knees.  
  
Jack leaned back on the couch and allowed himself a bit of time to relax.  
  
"Thanks, Elaine. Wake me when it's my turn." As Jack drifted off to sleep, he could almost swear he could hear someone singing in the distance.  
  
Jack began to dream. He found himself in Elaine's apartment, only changed. Decayed. Metal grating replaced the floor and blood stained the walls. The smell of flesh and smoke filled the air, overpowering his sense of smell. Below the mesh, huge bleeding pipes stretched into infinity. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a constant thump and hum, like the sounds of the Abyss, only louder. The metal was rusted and dented, and as he looked out the cracked window of the apartment, he could see that everything had changed in the dream. The entire world seemed different. No fog, no snow, no nothing. The sky wasn't the strange gray of the storm clouds, but pitch black, no stars, no clouds. A void. The ground, even where there should have been dirt and grass, had been replaced by the metal mesh, the pipes disappearing over the horizon, the payload of what seemed to be blood leaking in several places.  
  
Somehow, even though no lights existed, he could see everything clearly, in sharp focus. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound outside. The only noise was the drone of machinery and the constant thunderous pounding over the horizon.  
  
As he stepped away from the window, he heard a strange sound in the next room. He approached the door and opened it slowly. Inside, one of the tiny black ghost things stood, what may have been its face upturned to the highest part of the corner behind the door. Jack turned and saw a small cross, doused in blood.  
  
Jack sat bolt upright, a cold sweat making his clothes stick to his body, his heart beating wildly. Something about that cross had terrified him, but he couldn't tell why.  
  
Elaine was asleep in the chair facing the door, the shotgun resting in her lap.  
  
She needs the rest, I suppose. Guess it's my turn to watch the door.  
  
Jack took the shotgun and went over to the window, looking outside. The town looked the same as before: cold, dark, full of…  
  
Fog. The fog is gone, Jack-o. And am I the only one who noticed something about the sky?  
  
Jack had already seen it. The clouds were disappearing, being replaced by darkness. Somewhere in the distance he saw a bright red line moving at an incredible speed over the town. As the band of light raced forward, he saw several buildings turn to rusting metal and the ground change into mesh gratings, with pipes beneath.  
  
The dream was coming true. He didn't know how or why, but it was.  
  
"Elaine! Wake up, you've got to see this! " Jack cried, turning away from the window.  
  
Elaine jumped, jerking out of the chair and drawing her pistol. "What is it, what's going on, Jack?"  
  
Jack simply pointed out the window to the fast approaching light.  
  
"My God… It can't be, this was just a dream of mine!" Elaine said, watching a nearby building start to decay and rust.  
  
Jack took a moment to stare at her. "You mean you've had the same dream, of a world covered in grates and rusted metal buildings?"  
  
Elaine's eyes went wide for a split second, and the red wall of light hit.  
  
Jack and Elaine backed away more out of instinct than actual surprise, and as the light raced through the building, they could feel it shift and change shapes.  
  
The air changed from the stale cold smell to the hot, blood stink from the dream. The loud thumping and the whine of machinery filled Jack's ears once again, and the floor turned into mesh. Jack spun in place, the entire room turning into that dream, that nightmare again, and he heard that same sound from before.  
  
"Elaine, I think something is in your bedroom…" Jack said, calm and quiet, in a monotone. He was almost in shock. He just couldn't believe it.  
  
Elaine held the gun at the ready and nudged the bedroom door with her shoulder. "It's one of those… ghost things. Nothing else."  
  
Jack shook his head and started forward. "Look in the corner behind the door. What's on the wall?"  
  
Elaine stepped inside and Jack heard a sharp intake of breath. He already knew what she'd found. She came back out and closed the door behind her, the gun resting in her hand like a heavy weight.  
  
"A cross, covered in-" Elaine started, when Jack cut in.  
  
"Blood. I know. It was in my dream." Jack shook his head and tightened the coat around his body. "Come on, we're leaving. This is getting weirder by the minute."  
  
Jack went to the door and unlocked it, stepping outside into the strangely warm air.  
  
Elaine joined Jack on the changed landing, looking out over the courtyard. Every tree had been replaced by a mass of twisted iron, rust coating it. The bench had been replaced by a hulking ruin that had once been a car. Whatever this world was, it seemed like an industrial wasteland, like an image of a none too pleasant future.  
  
Jack quickly walked across the landing, taking the steps two at a time and landing in a half crouch at the bottom, the shotgun held tight against his shoulder. Elaine came down behind him, holding both Baretta pistols up, cocked and ready.  
  
"Right, the courtyard seems clear, Elaine. Let's go." Jack began forward once again, toward the open black gate.  
  
Oh, Jack-o, is it just me, or wasn't that gate shut the last time we were here?  
  
That voice was actually starting to come in handy, because Jack did remember closing it, and in this world, only appearance was different. It should've been closed.  
  
Jack started to back away when a black shape loomed in the gate, incredibly large. The gate bent inward soundlessly and fell apart as a massive creature entered the courtyard. Elaine attempted to open the storage room door, only to find it rusted shut.  
  
Jack and Elaine turned back to the massive shape, fear rushing through them. The only way out was through the gate, and the gate was blocked by one very large creature. 


	11. The Beast

1.1.1.1 Chapter Eleven: The Beast  
  
Heat and sound. It sensed something near, something small enough to eat yet large enough to be a threat. It bellowed, a blast of hot air filling the courtyard. Everything was outlined in vivid color. It saw using the heat, and what it saw was a pair of red shapes, food creatures, against a background of blue, each holding blue things, pain makers. The simple animal mind registered these as not being much of a threat and it started forward, bellowing again so it could see with the sound, so it could hunt by the pain and color.  
  
Jack felt a wave of intense heat slam through his body as the huge creature bellowed. It stood maybe ten feet high and six broad at the shoulder. Where a head should have been, there was a massive oval shaped object connected directly to the body.  
  
It entered the courtyard with a strange, slinking grace and speed, the strange body appearing to ripple with each movement. It turned in profile and Jack got a sense of how long it was. Ten feet of body and an extra eight of tail. It walked on all fours with the tail used as a balance, and it was the basic body design of a big cat, like a lion or a leopard.  
  
Instead of fur it was covered in what looked like black rubber that seemed to shine in the unnatural light, like an oil slick. The huge oval shaped front split open down the middle, spreading apart into a cavernous mouth lined with row after row of teeth, a long string of saliva connecting with the metal grate below and dissolving through. Acid of some kind, that much was obvious.  
  
Every time the creature screamed, a wave of heat slammed through Jack like some electric blast, making him feel queasy and dizzy. Jack had a feeling it was like the echolocation that a bat uses, sound in place of sight. Highly efficient, and it also seemed to release some kind of pheromone that seemed to stun the prey. Something that could be handy for this creature.  
  
It howled again and Jack found that he was out of the path of the scream. He was to the side of the open mouth, avoiding the sickening heat and smell. It was some kind of blind spot, where the creature couldn't stun him. Suddenly, it sprung forward and landed on the wall, incredibly large claws digging into the pitted and rusted metal. It was climbing the side of the building like a cat, several windows crashing in and a door being crushed as it climbed.  
  
Jack watched it in amazed silence, until he realized it was going around him, to Elaine.  
  
Elaine quickly tested the door again, willing it to open, but it was futile. She only saw a huge black shape come through the gate, several loud roars echoing through the courtyard. The huge shape moved with liquid grace, but the agility was almost impossible, the unearthly grace seeming very wrong.  
  
The shape was a quadruped, and it was very long. Light played over a strange black skin, thick and leathery, as Jack turned, the flashlight shaking in his hand. She could almost feel the malignant power coming from it.  
  
Suddenly, it was hidden in the shadows. She could still hear the soft tread of the creature, rusted metal clanking beneath heavy, clawed feet. Suddenly, the sound changed to a hollow "clang" followed by several quiet sounds.  
  
Ting, ting, ting.  
  
She heard a dull screech and finally understood the sound. Claws, punching through the metal of the changed wall, and the sound of metal rending. It was climbing slowly, using as much stealth as something as large as such a creature could. The rasp of something sliding across metal  
  
A tail, Elaine, you're hearing the tail drag over the rusted metal.  
  
Her mind snapped into sharp focus all at once, and she saw the pale half- moon of Jack's face, heard the sound of an impossible creature shifting directly above her head, felt a blast of hot air as the creature bellowed again, marking her. Her mind was screaming for her to move, and even as she looked up she saw the immense maw spreading open, the red interior flaring to life in the chill night air.  
  
She ran toward Jack, turning to fire into the black shape, watching it slink down the wall and land with a quiet thump. She turned back and her right ear exploded, a shotgun going off a foot away. She hissed in pain, the sound deafening in the courtyard, the heat of the gunfire making her recoil. The smell of cooked flesh and blood filled the air, and she knew that shot would have been at almost point blank range.  
  
She turned and began to fire, the black shape almost five feet away and shaking it's impossible, almost egg shaped head back and forth. Even in the muzzle flash she couldn't get a good feel for the creature. All she saw was the huge shape, the impossible claws, the strange head. She noted a huge hole in the side of the head, the damage done by the shotgun blast.  
  
The strange beast mewled and lurched forward, the jaws spreading wide once more, ready to slam shut on Jack, who was reloading the shotgun. Elaine started to fire, but all she heard was the final, fatal click. Empty. Jack was going to die, and all she could do was watch.  
  
Jack looked up into the maw and cocked the shotgun, not raising it but barely tilting the barrel up, into the black and red mouth. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger, praying that it didn't jam, and if it did, that he would at least pass out before the acid got to him.  
  
A single explosion, a scream of agony, too high to really tell if it was Jack or the beast. Elaine looked back and saw the creature, jaws wide around Jack. All she could see of Jack at the time was his feet, and suddenly the creature lurched back on its haunches, blood pouring from the gaping hole through its spine. Jack had shot it through the mouth, the heavy ball bearing round punching straight through the soft flesh and destroying a substantial bit of spine on the way out. Now, instead of some hulking behemoth, summoned from one of the circles of hell, the creature looked a lot like a surprised kitten, mewling quietly and lurching from left to right.  
  
Jack stepped away, breathing heavily, almost gasping for air. The beast opened its mouth one final time and howled, almost knocking Elaine off her feet. The heat seemed to punch through her body like a wall of fire. If Elaine could have seen the creature, she would have seen ripples of intense heat rising into the air. A loud thud sounded as it crashed to the metal, blood and acid seeping into the grating.  
  
Jack looked over at Elaine and saw her cringe, still feeling the aftermath of the heat wave. He loaded the shotgun again and stepped over one of the clawed forelimbs, watching it twitch and flail for a moment, the massive claws digging into the metal for one final hold, almost as if the creature was attempting to hold onto it's miserable, unnatural life.  
  
"Elaine, we need to go. Right now. This place is compromised."  
  
Elaine opened her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks from the heat, and a look of blank confusion on her face. "What? Compromised?"  
  
Jack spoke quickly as she began to load her handguns. "The way I see it, these…things, they hunt by heat and sound, and if my guess is right, before this one died, it sent up the mother of all signal flares. It'll be like a dinner bell for the other creatures. We need to go, now."  
  
The light of understanding dawned in Elaine's eyes, the bright blue seeming to disappear into gray, a haze of fear filling them. Elaine simply nodded once and they both went to the gate. Jack stopped and stared for a moment before tugging a large slip of paper, a page from a book, from the metal gate.  
  
"Jack, what does it say?" Elaine almost whispered, standing next to him, wanting to leave.  
  
Jack began to read, a slight change in the timbre of his voice, making him sound as if he'd suddenly gotten younger.  
  
" Beware the Jabberwock, my son, the jaws that bite and the claws that catch. Beware the Jub Jub bird and the frumorious Bandersnatch."  
  
Jack looked at the page long and hard for a moment before turning it over, and finding a different message on the reverse.  
  
The Jabberwock lie dead at your feet, no vorpal blade used now, but your death will be slow and sweet, if you don't leave now. The blood of the innocent inks this, and soon you should flee, for if you don't escape here soon, you'll end up just like me.  
  
Below this message, inked in still warm blood, was a prim and proper signature, in flowing handwriting:  
  
1.1.1.1.1.1 Terri Miller  
  
Below this, a single lock of blood doused hair, smelling like peppermint, had been pinned against the paper with the remains of a bone, pale in the light. Elaine almost screamed, but instead turned and walked out into the street, Jack following close behind. 


	12. Ghost of Otherside

1.1 Chapter Twelve: Ghost of Otherside  
  
Jack and Elaine stepped out into the street, the dull, distant hum of machinery filling their ears. The courtyard gate squealed in protest, closing behind them. Jack shivered, the sound making his flesh crawl. Somewhere in the distance, a loud bellow filled the air. The hairs on the back of Jack's neck stood on end.  
  
"They're coming. Move, no time to waste." Jack bolted down the street, in the general direction of the church, Elaine following behind him. The strange grating beneath his feet made no sound as he ran, only the soft crunch of rust underfoot.  
  
He heard the same sobbing sound from before, the sound of the black ghost, coming from around a corner up ahead. Jack knew they were harmless, but something made him slow, something in the sound. New levels, new tones in the soft, sad crying. Elaine stopped next to him, tilting her head and listening, nervously tapping a finger on the trigger of one of her handguns.  
  
Elaine followed Jack to the corner, trying to keep her sanity intact. All she had wanted to do was get to work, maybe bitch at her landlord, and go to bed at the end of the day. Now it was a struggle for survival in some strange waking nightmare.  
  
Jack rounded the corner ahead, and she could still hear that strange sound, the sound those black things made, like a crying child. She slowly walked around the corner after Jack, expecting to find a black ghost, and instead seeing a sight she would never forget.  
  
The street was black, almost like the abyss from before. Elaine realized that the street wasn't gone, it was covered. Hundreds of the black ghost creatures were swarming over the grated street, sobbing and lurching toward Jack and Elaine.  
  
Jack stood to the right, stunned by the bizarre parade stretching over the metal grating. Several of the ghost children broke off and started toward strange garbage piles.  
  
Elaine squinted, trying to see what the piles were. Parts. Doll parts to be precise. Whole dolls, legs, arms, mannequins. Jack must have seen it too, because he tensed up, holding the shotgun against his shoulder and waiting.  
  
"Jack, what's going on? What do you think they're doing?" Elaine asked quietly, her voice cracking slightly. She caught the slight shift in his stance as he shook his head, remaining silent.  
  
Elaine looked back at the pile of dolls and saw why. Several were moving, rolling down the pile. She could only watch in disgust as one of the dolls was torn open in a gout of blood, a creature that looked a lot like a newborn baby with no face and a butcher knife pulling itself out of the plastic case, like a butterfly from it's cocoon.  
  
Jack finally spoke, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Dolls. Those things killed someone back in your apartment building."  
  
More dolls were cutting their way out of the plastic bodies holding them, and Elaine knew that was what the black ghosts did. They possessed things and made them into killing machines. The shotgun roared into life, three rounds tearing through the dolls.  
  
Elaine backed away from the army of black ghosts, watching them scatter in some kind of panic. One of the dolls seemed to giggle and bend forward, slashing at Elaine's calf. She jumped out of the way and kicked the small creature, knocking it off of its feet. She fired her Baretta handguns twice, watching the doll curl in on itself, the strange giggling still filling the air.  
  
Jack broke into a run, Elaine following close behind as the dolls massed in the street.  
  
Jack continued to run, using what he remembered from the map to find the church. The fact that the roads had no markers of any kind didn't help, but he was doing his best to follow the roads he had memorized. He could hear Elaine behind him, and the distant laughter of the dolls. Street after street, each building seemed to be identical, making it harder and harder to find his way. He came to a halt and almost doubled over, out of breath. His mind raced as he caught his breath, trying to concentrate.  
  
Oh, Jack-o, didn't the map have a light side and a dark side?  
  
Jack had the urge to silence the voice again, but the last thing he needed was for Elaine to think he was insane, and for once the voice had said something to help.  
  
Jack opened his coat and almost took the flashlight out of along with the map, but he remembered the strange light in this place and simply flipped the map over. "Right… Street layout is the same, but the landmarks are all different. Instead of a large oak on Bachman street, it's what appears to be a gallows. Elaine, come on, I know where we're going now." Jack held the map in one hand and the shotgun in the other, following the landmarks until the gallows came into his field of vision.  
  
This was nothing like the medieval version; this was twisted and darkened, like the rest of this strange world. Instead of rope, the nooses were made of barbed wire, the rest constructed of blackened metal. Dried blood had created a red patch beneath the wire nooses, and a small crater had been filled with charred remains. The entire setup wasn't for execution; it was a torture device.  
  
Elaine stopped behind Jack and took a long, hard look at the gallows, feeling a mixture of disgust and fascination.  
  
How could those creatures build something like this? And why? There aren't any people in this place.  
  
A dull gleam caught her eye, coming from the bloody pit below the gallows, amongst the ashes and bone fragments. Elaine squinted and kneeled by the hole, trying to get a better look at the object. She carefully sifted through the ashes, taking hold of a small, still warm chunk of metal and pulling it out into the light. The blood seemed to drain from her face, and Jack spoke up, a slight note of concern in his voice.  
  
"What'd you find? What is that?"  
  
Elaine stood, throwing the object back into the ashes, turning away and walking past Jack. "An S.H.P.D. badge. Let's go."  
  
Jack took a moment to look back at the burnt badge for a moment before joining Elaine on their way to the church. 


	13. Black Sunday

1.1.1.1 Chapter Thirteen: Black Sunday  
  
Jack and Elaine continued to follow the landmarks until they found a massive, ruined gateway, marking the entrance to a location printed on the map as "Blood Sanctuary" in the same basic area as the "South Vale Baptist Church" on the normal side.  
  
Jack stepped through the massive ruins of the iron gate, trying to keep his grip on the shotgun, his palms sweating, his mind racing.  
  
Well, Jack-o, we have evidence of a dead cop, evil monsters, you're daughter to worry about, and a letter from a girl we saw dead and crucified. Think this town will get any weirder, or are we almost done?  
  
Jack sighed in frustration and was about to tell the voice to leave him be, just to shut up, when the cacophony of a bell filled his ears. He looked up and was amazed.  
  
The church wasn't metal, it was perfectly normal. Beautiful wood construction, stained glass windows, massive, white doors.  
  
"Incredible. Nothing has changed. It's just the same as before," Elaine said, walking to the double doors and bending over for a moment, going so far as to inspect an old inscription on a plaque.  
  
"South Vale Baptist Church, founded in 1892, in memory of the lost," Elaine read, straightening up and rubbing her shoulder, as if a chill had cut through her body. "What does that mean? The lost?"  
  
Elaine shook her head slightly and sat down on the steps, resting. They'd been running for a while and she needed a break anyway.  
  
"In 1890, the town was shrouded in fog for close to a week. Twenty different people went in, but they never returned. Four hundred of the one thousand people who populated this town at the time disappeared and were never heard from again. It was known as the time of the lost. Everybody experienced missing time, nobody ever knew what happened to the other people, and nobody knew where everyone else had been during the week. It was like they had just disappeared…" Elaine trailed off and stared at her feet, sighing quietly.  
  
"Well, I think we can safely assume what happened to those people, can't we?" Jack muttered darkly, walking up the low steps to the massive doors. "The bell was ringing. Someone may be inside. Let's head in, Elaine." Jack nudged the door with his foot, and stepped into the darkened church.  
  
Inside the church, candles sat in each corner, dimly lighting the room. The outside had been a picture of perfect order, while inside it was total chaos. The aisle was covered in what looked like motor oil, the smell of death and decay filling the air. Each row of seats had been torn apart, one bench at a time, and had been strewn about the massive room. All of these elements alone would have made it look like a simple accident, or some natural disaster, but combined, they made it a hellish scene.  
  
The greatest horror stood against the far wall, leaning against the soiled, dingy white wallpaper: a holy cross, stained red with blood, sitting upside down against the wall, with a figure clad in black clothing nailed to it. Jack registered all this slowly, not quite sure what he was seeing, until he approached the cross.  
  
The figure looked untouched, the only wounds being the nails through his hands and feet. A man of around fifty years in age had been pegged to the cross, probably still alive from the copious amounts of blood covering the floor. Jack only needed a glance to see the white collar around his neck.  
  
Jack looked down, devoid of shock or emotion. He'd been through too much already.  
  
"Hello Father… Having a bad day, I see."  
  
Elaine noticed a sickly sweet odor and knew what was waiting: another dead body. She'd first smelled something like it when she had to report to a murder scene in her first year on the force. Three day-old shooting victim in the back of a car near the lake. But this was worse. It smelled metallic, burned, under the smell of flesh. The church was dark and dank, but the few candles spread about were giving off enough light to make Elaine wish it was pitch black. 


End file.
